


American values

by tuckercolour



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Captain America: The Winter Soldier Spoilers, Coming Out, First Dates, First Kiss, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, LGBTQ Themes, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Mutual Pining, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-01-25 19:20:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1659545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuckercolour/pseuds/tuckercolour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam likes Steve. Steve likes Sam. But Captain America's never dated a guy before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sam knew by the end of his first conversation with Steve Rogers that if they ever spoke again, he was gonna fall for the man, and fall hard. He'd always known that the Cap was hot, of course, fucking smoking hot in every way, and that he was kind and brave too — every American and their dog knew all that — but damn, he wasn't prepared for the playful flirting that accompanied meeting him in real life. At least, it sure seemed like Steve was flirting with him too. What else would you call that? Not to mention that the guy was real sweet, down-to-earth, friendly, funny … and he had the cutest smile Sam had ever seen. He didn’t smile like that in professional photos. Not that genuine, “I’m enjoying your company” smile. But as far as he knew, Steve was straight, and besides: how do you just casually ask Captain America out on a date?

Steve was pretty sure, in the weeks after the collapse of SHIELD, that he was steadily growing a significant crush on Sam Wilson. He'd been attracted to him the first time they met, but after a little playful flirting, he'd sort of suddenly found himself with rather too much else on his mind to do anything about it. Now ... Everything had settled down a bit. They'd got Bucky back, in more ways than one, and under Coulson's fantastic leadership the formation of a new, HYDRA-free SHIELD was well underway; he had some time to relax, and (as Natasha kept gently prodding) going on some good dates would do him the world of good. But it had been so long since he’d really navigated this kind of thing. Besides, part of him couldn’t quite shake the pre-serum memories of rejection, feeling invisible, knowing that no one ever quite liked him back, not in that way — not until Peggy, of course. (Some people liked to insinuate that there must have been something “more” between Bucky and him, but they both resented the idea that a friendship had to be romantic to be that important; that platonic relationships were somehow inferior. They were best friends. No ‘just’ about it.) Sure, Nat had tried to set him up on a couple dates and they had gone all right, but they were just … pretty acquaintances. Sam was a really good friend and he didn’t want to screw this up.

So it wasn’t that he didn’t want to date Sam, he just didn't know what to say. And there was one more nagging problem: as far as most of the world knew, Captain America was straight.

He was really gonna have to do something about that assumption.

-

What with all they’d been through together, Steve, Sam and Natasha spent a lot of time hanging out, just the three of them. Sometimes Bucky joined in, but … social interaction was hard for him after his time as the Winter Soldier. He preferred talking to one person at a time, which was fine by the others, once they got used to it. One Friday evening they’d been at Steve’s apartment eating takeout and playing board games (Steve loved the familiarity of Monopoly, even if the board had changed a fair bit since the forties) when, at 10pm, Sam got up, stretched and said,

“Well this has been fun, but I’ve got an early morning tomorrow and I stayed up til three last night —“

“Why?” Nat cut in. Sam shrugged.

“Video games.”

“Then it’s your own damn fault, isn’t it?”

“Shut up. Anyway, I’m gonna head home, all right?”

“Thanks for coming,” said Steve, standing up to walk him to the door; ever the gracious host even with his best friends.

“Any time, man. See you soon, Nat.”

“See you,” she called after them. A moment later, Steve returned and leant against the edge of the sofa next to where she sat.

“What about you?”

“I’m not planning on going anywhere for a while, not unless you kick me out. Want another game of Scrabble?”

“Sure. I’m just gonna grab another drink, you want anything?”

“Nah, I’m good,” she said, holding up a half-empty bottle of Coke (no point drinking alcohol with a super-soldier and someone who had to get up in the morning) before setting up the board for a new game. “You know,” she continued as he wandered back through from the kitchen a minute later, “sometimes I think Sam and I shouldn’t spend as many Friday nights with you when you still haven’t been on a single date since that one you let me set you up for like, seven weeks ago. You need to get out and meet new people!”

“I met Sam,” he pointed out, immediately regretting how that sounded. He meant it was him who went out and made friends with him, not…

“Yeah, but that’s not —“ Nat stopped, staring at him wide-eyed, and a grin spread across her face. “Oh my God. Steve.”

“I didn’t mean —“

“You’re blushing.”

“I am not.”

“I knew it.”

“What? No you didn’t —“

“You’ve got a thing for Sam!”

“Yeah!” Steve admitted, surprising them both into a couple seconds of silence. “Look … yeah, all right? I — I do.”

Nat leaned forward and put a hand on his arm. “Does he know?”

“No. I don’t think so, I mean, I haven’t told him.” He squirmed a little. “I don’t know how to bring it up.”

“Oh my God, Steve,” she said again, “you’re Captain America and even if you weren’t, I’m pretty sure Sam thinks the sun shines out of your ass. He’s single. And he doesn’t exactly hide his appreciation for some of the handsome actors when we’re watching films, so I’m pretty sure you’ve got nothing to worry about on that front, either.” She paused, and when he didn’t say anything, she added, “Speaking of which, is this something you already knew? That you like guys? Or was Sam a surprise?” Again, he didn’t reply right away, and she was just opening her mouth to apologise for prying when he said haltingly,

“No, I — I’ve known for a long time. Since before the war. But it wasn’t like …” He trailed off for a moment; Nat waited patiently. “I mean, so much of America’s still so bad about that kind of shit even now, I’m sure you know it was a lot worse back then. I needed to get in the army, and then I was fucking Captain America, so I just — couldn’t.” Having only heard him swear on a few choice occasions before, Nat knew this was serious. She wasn’t surprised though. She didn’t even want to try to imagine what hell it must have been to grow up as an all-American Christian boy in the twenties and thirties and realise you liked other boys — he was beaten up enough just for being scrawny, right? Add in his determination to join the army, and well, she could see why it was a part of himself he buried deep enough for its extraction to be agony. 

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to talk about it,” she offered quietly.

“I do, though. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. I can’t fucking stand the homophobia that still goes on in this country, and I’m — I’m Captain America. I could do something about it. I’d love to see the look on some of those right-wing Republicans’ faces when they hear their favourite patriotic hero is totally bisexual.” His lips twitched. “Bisexual. Never said it aloud before.”

Nat smiled encouragingly at him. “Well, maybe you’d better get a bit more used to the word in your own mouth before you come public with it, eh?” She leaned in to give him a hug, squeezing gently. “Thanks for confiding in me. Although I guess you didn’t have much of a choice, so, sorry again about that.” Steve laughed and shook his head. “You know, I’m sure none of the rest of the Avengers would have a problem with it either. If you want to try coming out to any of them before …”

“Maybe,” he said softly, then swallowed deeply and cleared his throat. “Anyway. Um. Weren’t we … uh …” He gestured vaguely at the table.

“Scrabble! Of course.”

-

It was Friday again by the time they next in the same place at the same time — Sam's this week. He was desperately trying to teach Steve to play Mario Kart while Nat sat laughing her ass off and throwing popcorn into her mouth like she was at a private cinema and they were a comedy film put on specifically for her entertainment.

"Aw, come on, Steve, it's simple — look — let me —" He grabbed Steve's controller and tossed his own back to Nat with a hasty, "Remember who's feeding you tonight before you make me lose!"

He needn't have worried about that. Nat stopped laughing as she picked up the controller and calmly overtook all the players Sam had dropped behind in his distracted state of helping Steve, quickly settling into first place and maintaining it to the end of the race. Sam blinked in surprise at her after Steve’s character finally crossed the finishing line.

“Dude, you’re really good. Why aren’t you playing?”

She shrugged. “Watching you two is funnier. Also, this way my hands are free for food and drink — and besides. Steve can barely play. It would hardly be fair.” She smiled sweetly at Steve’s scowl.

“All right, well, I gotta use the bathroom, so you two may as well have a proper game to yourselves anyway,” he said, standing up. Sam watched him go. Nat watched Sam.

“You wanna play then? I’m usually pretty all right, actually, I was just —“

“Too busy helping Steve,” she finished for him, sounding vaguely thoughtful. “Sam. Were you watching Steve’s ass as he left the room?”

Sam spluttered incoherently for a moment before blurting out, “Well, I’m only human!”

“So that’s a yes.”

He shrugged awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. “What can I say? Guy’s got a great … you know … physique. Can’t really help appreciating that when I get the chance, I guess. Hey, what character d’you wanna be?”

“I don’t care. Stop trying to change the subject. You crushing on him?”

“Hard not to, isn’t it?”

“I manage.” They heard the toilet flush from the other side of the house. “All right, you can change the subject now. What character am I?”

“Princess Peach. I’m Yoshi. And Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t tell him.”

She sighed and shook her head, but said, “Course I won’t.”

As Steve returned, they were concentrating on the game like nothing had happened. He glanced at Nat’s popcorn, but without taking her eyes of the game she muttered,

“Don’t you dare.”

He held his hands up. “I wouldn’t, Nat, I really wouldn’t. I’ve seen you sprain Clint’s wrist for taking your chips at dinner, and that’s Clint. I don’t fancy my chances.”


	2. Chapter 2

That Tuesday was Sam's birthday. He was adamant he didn't want anyone making a fuss about it, but of course they at least had to meet up and have cake — in the end, they managed to convince him to have all the Avengers (those who were free; Thor couldn't make it down from Asgard, especially at such short notice) round for an hour or two. Bucky even showed up towards the end.

“Hey guys,” he announced nervously. Too many people in one place for his liking these days. Everyone quietened down a little and Sam stepped away from the group to greet him.

“Hey man, good to see you. How's it going?”

“Not bad. Thanks for your advice the other day about the cryo nightmares. Think it's helping.” 

“Real glad to hear it.”

“Oh, and happy birthday, I guess,” he added with a teasing half-smile, and when Sam opened his arms, he stepped into the hug. 

“You wanna sit in the other room or something, and the others can come say hi away from the noise?”

“Yeah, all right,” he said, gratitude obvious in his voice. Sam grabbed a slice of cake for Bucky and led him through to the empty games room.

Barely a minute later, Steve poked his head round the door. “Hey Buck!” he grinned. “Mind if I join you?”

“I mind terribly. How dare you,” Bucky deadpanned, before smiling back at him. “Sit your ass down, punk. Sam tells me he's been teaching you to play some kind of video games, whatever the fuck that means...” Laughing, Sam left them to it, rejoining the main party (how did he end up with a party? A small party, but still).

“Oh, shut up, you know what video games are.”

“Yeah, well, it's fun talking like an old man.” 

“True.” He clapped an arm around Bucky's shoulders as he sat down. “You know, 'punk' means something different these days.”

“What?”

“Uh huh. Totally different.”

“You mean no one knows I'm calling you —”

“A twink,” Steve finished for him. “That'd be the modern word, I believe. Although, as a straight guy, you probably shouldn't go throwing around —”

“Steve,” he interrupted. “I — I really don't think I'm all that straight.”

“You — what?”

Suddenly Bucky looked scared. “You don't mind or anything, do you? Oh God, please don't judge, I just —”

“I'm not judging!” Steve held his hands up. “I am so not judging, I couldn't, I mean ... “ He paused. “Me neither. I haven't ... told anyone except Nat, kind of by accident a few days ago, but I've known I’m … bi … forever.”

Bucky was quiet for a moment. “I don't know when I knew. Can't remember clear enough.”

Steve put a hand back on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “It might still come back to you. Anyway, we both know now.” He licked his lips before saying, “Do you remember, that time when we were thirteen, and you said you’d kissed Annie, and I asked you what kissing was like?”

Bucky frowned for a moment, then: “And I said I’d show you!” They both laughed.

“That was my first kiss, you know.”

“… Mine too.”

“Wait, you were lying about Annie?”

“Guilty,” he admitted sheepishly. Steve gave him a playful shove before suddenly turning serious again.

“I'm ...” He ran a hand through his own hair. “I reckon I've gotta come out to the public sometime. Homophobic Republicans tend to assume Captain America agrees with them, and I don't want my name being used that way, I want to make a positive difference, you know? What's the point in me having this position of influence if queer kids are still growing up in nearly as much fear as I did?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Always fighting against the bullies for the greater good, eh? How very Steve Rogers. Nah, I get it,” he said, as Steve looked hurt at his tone, “good on you. I think I'll stay a little quieter myself, though, all right?”

“Of course, Buck. I'd never out anyone without their permission.”

“I know you wouldn't. You say Nat knows?” he asked thoughtfully.

“Yeah, we — we were talking about my lack of dates, and I sort of ... let it slip, I guess.” Somehow he didn’t feel like mentioning his crush on Sam to Bucky right now. “She was totally cool about it.”

Bucky nodded slowly. “That's good.”

Hearing footsteps, they both looked up. “Speak of the devil,” Steve said brightly, thankful that she'd made them aware of her approach; normally she moved almost silently without even trying.

“Thanks for the compliment,” Nat grinned. “Tony and Pepper are leaving, by the way — well, Pepper’s trying to drag him away, at least — if you wanna say bye. Don’t think Bruce is gonna stay much longer either.”

“All right, I’d better grace the party with my glorious presence again,” he joked, standing up without taking his hand off the metal shoulder it rested on. “See you later, yeah, Buck?”

“Yeah, see you ... punk.”

Steve shook his head and smiled fondly. “Jerk.”

-

When everyone else had left, the four sat quietly for a while, passing around the remains of the cake and laughing (Sam and Bucky included) at Sam's complaints about the party he never asked for.

“Don't even try to pretend having the Avengers round your house didn't make the best birthday you've ever had,” said Steve.

“I dunno, I think it was my presence that really made it,” Bucky added, grinning. “I mean, I was definitely the life and soul of the party over here.” That put a smile on everyone's faces; he only joked about his anxieties when he was feeling all right about himself. He stretched lazily. “Sadly, though, this life and soul is getti a li’l tired, so ...”

“Sure,” Sam said, standing up at the same time as him. “I'm really glad you could make it, Buck. It's always good to see you. And all kidding aside — made my birthday better to have you here.” 

“You're welcome,” he shrugged, slightly awkwardly. He ruffled Steve's hair and clasped his hand for a moment, threw an arm around Nat where she perched on the back of the sofa, patted Sam on the shoulder and said, “I can see myself out. Later, guys.”

“See you,” they called after him.

“And then, there were three,” said Nat. “Wanna watch Star Trek?” They’d got Steve into the original series, but he hadn’t really got round to watching all that much yet.

“Yeah, I’m about to start the second season!”

“Oh my God, the first episode of season 2 is Amok Time!” Sam sounded absolutely delighted. “It’s the gayest episode — well, I dunno actually, there’s a lot of gay in most of ‘em —”

“What, you mean Kirk and Spock?”

“… Did someone tell you about K/S, or did you figure it out yourself?”

Steve looked baffled. “What’s K/S?”

“Kirk-slash-Spock,” he explained excitedly. “Like, their relationship. Loads of people since right back in the sixties think they’re in love, or fucking, or whatever, even though it’s never explicit in the show or the films. Did someone tell you that or did you just look at them and think ‘wow, that’s gay’?”

“No, no-one told me anything,” he said, shaking his head with a bemused smile. “They just … I probably wouldn’t have thought of it, but that ‘kink in my back’ scene, well.”

“Right?” Sam looked like Christmas had come early.

Nat raised an eyebrow. “We gonna watch, then?”

“Yeah!” 

She rolled her eyes at Sam’s enthusiasm as he fumbled to put the disc in, and at Steve beaming at him, eyes clearly on his ass as he bent down to the DVD player. (Wow, how did she not notice that before?) Absolute dorks, the both of them. And, she was pretty sure, absolute dorks in love.

-

“Wow. That … that was gay,” Steve agreed when the episode was over. (He’d shushed any attempts to talk during it. He liked to concentrate on what he was watching.)

“Isn’t it great? Hey, wanna watch the next one?”

“Sure, sounds good to —“

“Well, you boys go ahead,” Nat interrupted, standing up and moving towards the door. “Meanwhile, I’m getting a little tired of being the third wheel to your mutual unresolved sexual tension, so I’m gonna head home, and if you two don’t fucking talk this thing out, I swear to God …”

And she was gone.

There was an awkward silence for half a minute after she left, then Sam ventured nervously, “So. You too, huh?”

Steve let out a shaky laugh and hung his head. “Are you telling me we both told her … and told her not to tell anyone?”

“Oh my God.”

“Oh wow.” They were both laughing at each other and themselves now.

"So you really were flirting with me, when we first met?" Sam couldn't help but ask. 

"Yeah, I was flirting with you!" he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I mean, I —" He paused, blushing and looking down again.

"Steve?" Sam prompted after a moment. He wasn't expecting the response to be Captain America turning to face him, raising both hands to his cheeks, and kissing him firmly on the mouth.

(All right … maybe he had been hoping for it.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long — I was busy with exams, and also really stuck on a bit of it for a while.

When they broke apart, they rested their foreheads against each other, just smiling, breathing, neither moving nor speaking for a moment. Then Sam muttered,

"I'm trying to think of something to say but all that comes to mind right now is, 'thank God for Natasha Romanoff'."

Steve laughed against his lips. "I couldn't agree more." And then he was kissing him again, pulling his legs up onto the sofa to turn into a better angle, one hand on the back of Sam's neck, and Sam had a hand on his hip, and kissing Sam was so much better than kissing Nat, in so many ways, and he never wanted it to end.

"You know," Sam mumbled a few minutes later, in between kisses, "screw everything else, this —" he gently tugged Steve closer to him and paused to lick slowly into his mouth for a moment — "this alone makes this the best birthday ever, man."

Steve grinned and crept his free hand along the back of the sofa to find Sam’s. "I’m flattered."

"You should be."

He laughed and kissed his nose. "I do still wanna watch the next Star Trek though."

Sam sighed dramatically, rolled his eyes, gave Steve one more peck on the lips then reached for the remote, hiding a smile. "All right. Whatever. We better be cuddling through it, all right?" Glancing back at Steve’s enthusiastic face, he pressed himself up against the super-soldier’s firm side before starting the episode.

-

As the credits started to roll, Steve placed a soft kiss on the top of Sam’s head where it rested comfortably against his shoulder.

"What’s the time?" Sam asked, looking at his watch before answering his own question: "Shit, it’s gone half eleven, I should be in bed …"

"I should – go home, I guess."

He hesitated. "Yeah, I guess." Tempting as it was, he doubted it was a good idea to ask him to stay the night after one evening of kissing; didn’t seem like the Cap’s style. Steve stood up, offering a hand to Sam and pulling him up into another kiss.

"I’ll see you soon," he murmured against the Falcon’s lips, before turning to leave. He paused at the door, though, and added, "Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"I’m — I’m not ready to tell people yet, you know?" He stared at the floor, shuffling awkwardly from one foot to the other. "I’m not ashamed or anything, it’s just — I need to do this properly. I don’t want the media getting rumours before I’ve had the chance to figure out how I want to come out on my own terms."

"Sure, man." Steve looked up and caught Sam’s eye. He was half-smiling. "I get it. It’s fine. I won’t put out announcements in the newspapers just yet, hey?"

Steve snorted and shook his head. "Yeah, all right, thanks." Then he was gone.

-

Halfway down the street, he took out his phone and called Bucky.

"Hey Steve, what’s up?" He sounded groggy.

"Hey Buck, sorry, did I wake you?"

"Nah, I was just going to bed, but ‘m not asleep."

"Okay. I was just, uh, wondering about — you know, what we were talking about earlier —"

"You mean, the whole ‘us both being massive queers’ thing?" Steve could practically hear Bucky’s grin. "Sure, punk, what about it?"

"Yeah, um, that. Listen, it just occurred to me, the way we brought up that first kiss and stuff, it didn’t make you, I dunno, think that that … meant something more, or anything?"

"Steve," he said, sounding amused, "that was eighty years ago. I dunno about you, but I’ve moved on."

He laughed. "No, yeah, good. I just wanted to check —"

"Hey, listen," Bucky interrupted. "You’re my best friend, all right? Nothing more, nothing less, always have been (well, excepting that awkward seventy years, but hey), and always will be. If you’ve got feelings for me —"

"I don’t."

"All right, I’m just saying, if you did, that’d be okay. I wouldn’t be weirded out or anything. But I don’t. That kiss back then … it was just a bit of fun, you know? I’d wanted to kiss Annie, but she said no, so I was disappointed that I didn’t get my first kiss. Then you asked, and I figured, why the hell not?" He paused. "That’s all it was, Steve, honest."

"Okay, good."

"Good."

There was a moment’s silence. "Was that all?"

"I kissed Sam," Steve said conversationally.

"Wh — you — okay. Hey, good for you!"

"Yeah." This time it was Bucky’s turn to hear Steve grinning down the phone. "Yeah, it was."

"Lucky shit. He’s not half bad."

"He’s not even a little bit bad, Bucky, he’s great. He’s wonderful. He’s —"

"All right, lover-boy, tone it down. Christ, you’re like a teenager with a crush."

"Well, it’s been a while!" Steve said defensively. "And I’m still not exactly … used to people I like, liking me back, yet. Except Peggy, of course …" He trailed off quietly for a moment.

"Um," Bucky offered helpfully.

"Sorry, where were we?"

"You were waxing lyrical about your new boyfriend, or whatever he is to you now, but let’s not pick that up again."

"Right. Sorry. Uh. You were going to bed."

"I was."

"I should go, then. Let you get some rest."

"Yeah. Night, Steve. And congrats."

"Shut up," he laughed amiably, then his voice softened. "Sleep well, Buck."

"I’ll try."

"Night." He hung up, and smiled all the way home.

-

Natasha turned up uninvited in his apartment at eight the next morning. He walked into the kitchen to find her leaning against his counter, drinking coffee, as though she belonged there, and didn’t even bother acting surprised. "Morning, Nat."

"Morning, Steve." She took a long sip, staring at him over the rim. He could feel his cheeks flushing slightly already; it was obvious why she was there.

"Did, uh, did Sam talk to you after I left last night?" he asked, trying to sound casual. He crossed to the fridge for some orange juice.

"Nope. So I thought I’d come ask you how it went."

He hesitated, not looking at her, then shrugged, "Pretty good, I guess." Nat raised an eyebrow.

"Is that all?" she prompted, moving towards him, but he turned to get a glass from the cupboard, keeping his back to her.

"What more did you want?"

"Steve!"

He couldn’t hold it back any more. He doubled over laughing. "Nat, you know, you actually sounded genuinely worried there." He looked at her at last, beaming. "It went great, I just figure that when you break into my apartment it’s only fair to tease you a little."

She hit him in the arm. "You asshole! And I didn’t break in, I used the key."

He frowned. "I never gave you a key." She shrugged.

"I took one."

Steve opened his mouth, then shut it again, shook his head, and sipped his juice.

"So, are you gonna tell me what happened?"

He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Well, after admitting we both knew what you were talking about, we sort of just kissed for a while, I guess." He downed the rest of the glass while Nat grinned at him. "Then we watched the next Star Trek episode."

"Wow, romantic," she drawled.

"And cuddled."

"Better." She still looked expectant, so Steve added,

"Then it was getting late, so I went home." He reached out for her now-empty coffee cup and started running water.

"You just went home? Please tell me you kissed him goodbye," Nat demanded, striding over to join him by the sink. "You did not just go, ‘oops, it’s late, I’ll be off, see ya’, did you?"

"Come on, Nat, what do you take me for? I’m not totally inept. 95, not dead, remember? Of course I kissed him goodbye."

"Oh thank God," she said, with exaggerated relief. Steve threw a wet cloth at her. "What was that for, Rogers? You know, I was going to stay and help, but if you’re gonna be like that …" She disappeared before he could say anything else in the way that only Natasha Romanoff can. He sighed, rolled his eyes, and launched into the washing up.


	4. Chapter 4

When they broke apart, they rested their foreheads against each other, just smiling, breathing, neither moving nor speaking for a moment. Then Sam muttered,

 

"I'm trying to think of something to say but all that comes to mind right now is, 'thank God for Natasha Romanoff'."

 

Steve laughed against his lips. "I couldn't agree more." And then he was kissing him again, pulling his legs up onto the sofa to turn into a better angle, one hand on the back of Sam's neck, and Sam had a hand on his hip, and kissing Sam was so much better than kissing Nat, in so many ways, and he never wanted it to end.

 

“You know,” Sam mumbled a few minutes later, in between kisses, “screw everything else, this —“ he gently tugged Steve closer to him and paused to lick slowly into his mouth for a moment — “this alone makes this the best birthday ever, man.”

 

Steve grinned and crept his free hand along the back of the sofa to find Sam’s. “I’m flattered.”

 

“You should be.”

 

He laughed and kissed his nose. “I do still wanna watch the next Star Trek though.”

 

Sam sighed dramatically, rolled his eyes, gave Steve one more peck on the lips then reached for the remote, hiding a smile. “All right. Whatever. We better be cuddling through it, all right?” Glancing back at Steve’s enthusiastic face, he pressed himself up against the super-soldier’s firm side before starting the episode.

 

-

 

As the credits started to roll, Steve placed a soft kiss on the top of Sam’s head where it rested comfortably against his shoulder.

 

“What’s the time?” Sam asked, looking at his watch before answering his own question: “Shit, it’s gone half eleven, I should be in bed …”

 

“I should – go home, I guess.”

 

He hesitated. “Yeah, I guess.” Tempting as it was, he doubted it was a good idea to ask him to stay the night after one evening of kissing; didn’t seem like the Cap’s style. Steve stood up, offering a hand to Sam and pulling him up into another kiss.

 

“I’ll see you soon,” he murmured against the Falcon’s lips, before turning to leave. He paused at the door, though, and added, “Hey, Sam?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I’m — I’m not ready to tell people yet, you know?” He stared at the floor, shuffling awkwardly from one foot to the other. “I’m not ashamed or anything, it’s just — I need to do this properly. I don’t want the media getting rumours before I’ve had the chance to figure out how I want to come out on my own terms.”

 

“Sure, man.” Steve looked up and caught Sam’s eye. He was half-smiling. “I get it. It’s fine. I won’t put out announcements in the newspapers just yet, hey?”

 

Steve snorted and shook his head. “Yeah, all right, thanks.” Then he was gone.

 

-

 

Halfway down the street, he took out his phone and called Bucky.

 

“Hey Steve, what’s up?” He sounded groggy.

 

“Hey Buck, sorry, did I wake you?”

 

“Nah, I was just going to bed, but ‘m not asleep.”

 

“Okay. I was just, uh, wondering about — you know, what we were talking about earlier —“

 

“You mean, the whole ‘us both being massive queers’ thing?” Steve could practically hear Bucky’s grin. “Sure, punk, what about it?”

 

“Yeah, um, that. Listen, it just occurred to me, the way we brought up that first kiss and stuff, it didn’t make you, I dunno, think that that … meant something more, or anything?”

 

“Steve,” he said, sounding amused, “that was eighty years ago. I dunno about you, but I’ve moved on.”

 

He laughed. “No, yeah, good. I just wanted to check —“

 

“Hey, listen,” Bucky interrupted. “You’re my best friend, all right? Nothing more, nothing less, always have been (well, excepting that awkward seventy years, but hey), and always will be. If you’ve got feelings for me —“

 

“I don’t.”

 

“All right, I’m just saying, if you did, that’d be okay. I wouldn’t be weirded out or anything. But I don’t. That kiss back then … it was just a bit of fun, you know? I’d wanted to kiss Annie, but she said no, so I was disappointed that I didn’t get my first kiss. Then you asked, and I figured, why the hell not?” He paused. “That’s all it was, Steve, honest.”

 

“Okay, good.”

 

“Good.”

 

There was a moment’s silence. “Was that all?”

 

“I kissed Sam,” Steve said conversationally.

 

“Wh — you — okay. Hey, good for you!”

 

“Yeah.” This time it was Bucky’s turn to hear Steve grinning down the phone. “Yeah, it was.”

 

“Lucky shit. He’s not half bad.”

 

“He’s not even a little bit bad, Bucky, he’s great. He’s wonderful. He’s —”

 

“All right, lover-boy, tone it down. Christ, you’re like a teenager with a crush.”

 

“Well, it’s been a while!” Steve said defensively. “And I’m still not exactly … used to people I like, liking me back, yet. Except Peggy, of course …” He trailed off quietly for a moment.

 

“Um,” Bucky offered helpfully.

 

“Sorry, where were we?”

 

“You were waxing lyrical about your new boyfriend, or whatever he is to you now, but let’s not pick that up again.”

 

“Right. Sorry. Uh. You were going to bed.”

 

“I was.”

 

“I should go, then. Let you get some rest.”

 

“Yeah. Night, Steve. And congrats.”

 

“Shut up,” he laughed amiably, then his voice softened. “Sleep well, Buck.”

 

“I’ll try.”

 

“Night.” He hung up, and smiled all the way home.

 

-

 

Natasha turned up uninvited in his apartment at eight the next morning. He walked into the kitchen to find her leaning against his counter, drinking coffee, as though she belonged there, and didn’t even bother acting surprised. “Morning, Nat.”

 

“Morning, Steve.” She took a long sip, staring at him over the rim. He could feel his cheeks flushing slightly already; it was obvious why she was there.

 

“Did, uh, did Sam talk to you after I left last night?” he asked, trying to sound casual. He crossed to the fridge for some orange juice.

 

“Nope. So I thought I’d come ask you how it went.”

 

He hesitated, not looking at her, then shrugged, “Pretty good, I guess.” Nat raised an eyebrow.

 

“Is that all?” she prompted, moving towards him, but he turned to get a glass from the cupboard, keeping his back to her.

 

“What more did you want?”

 

“Steve!”

 

He couldn’t hold it back any more. He doubled over laughing. “Nat, you know, you actually sounded genuinely worried there.” He looked at her at last, beaming. “It went great, I just figure that when you break into my apartment it’s only fair to tease you a little.”

 

She hit him in the arm. “You asshole! And I didn’t break in, I used the key.”

 

He frowned. “I never gave you a key.” She shrugged.

 

“I took one.”

 

Steve opened his mouth, then shut it again, shook his head, and sipped his juice.

 

“So, are you gonna tell me what happened?”

 

He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Well, after admitting we both knew what you were talking about, we sort of just kissed for a while, I guess.” He downed the rest of the glass while Nat grinned at him. “Then we watched the next Star Trek episode.”

 

“Wow, romantic,” she drawled.

 

“And cuddled.”

 

“Better.” She still looked expectant, so Steve added,

 

“Then it was getting late, so I went home.” He reached out for her now-empty coffee cup and started running water.

 

“You just went home? Please tell me you kissed him goodbye,” Nat demanded, striding over to join him by the sink. “You did not just go, ‘oops, it’s late, I’ll be off, see ya’, did you?”

 

“Come on, Nat, what do you take me for? I’m not totally inept. 95, not dead, remember? Of course I kissed him goodbye.”

 

“Oh thank God,” she said, with exaggerated relief. Steve threw a wet cloth at her. “What was that for, Rogers? You know, I was going to stay and help, but if you’re gonna be like that …” She disappeared before he could say anything else in the way that only Natasha Romanoff can. He sighed, rolled his eyes, and launched into the washing up.


End file.
